By The Merri

The moorhen and black duck swim in a dark pool
Of the Merri river close to Warrnambool
And grey shrike thrush on blackwood tree whistle and sing
On the fifth of September in the early Spring
The songs of the magpies melodious and clear
They do sing their best at this time of the year
And the magpie larks they are piping pee wee
In a lush and green paddock three miles from the sea
Surrounded by sea and a scenic countryside
The City of Warrnambool is known far and wide
As a place that has inspired song, story and rhyme
The black tribes by the Merri danced in the Dreamtime
And the Seasons may come and the Seasons may go
But the Merri on towards the Pacific will flow.